What Makes A Killer
by Yami Faerie
Summary: AU, "Demon Blood" 'verse, sequel to "Obi Wan'd". Retelling of ep. 2.05. Sam and Dean begin a journey to try and find the other psychic kids, starting with Andy Gallagher. Is he another killer like Max, or is there more going on than first suspected?
1. Chapter One: Jedi Mind Powers

**What Makes A Killer**

**Chapter One: Jedi Mind Powers**

**Note: Part of my AU 'verse. Please read "Purpose", "Demon Blood", "Supernatural vs. Evil", "Your Latest Trick" and "Obi Wan'd in that order first. Enjoy!

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Dean was usually pretty willing to do things he thought were kinda crazy, but when you got right down to it, he just didn't like this idea one bit. "Are you sure, Sam?" he asked.

"For the last time, Dean, _yes_, I'm sure." Sam looked distinctly annoyed as they pulled up at Harvelle's Roadhouse. "We know that a whole bunch of them didn't have nursery fires, but there has to have been others besides myself and Max that did."

"Yeah, but tracking them down?" Dean killed the engine and looked over at Sam. "We don't know what they're capable of, Sam."

"And that matters?" Sam asked. "I'm the only one with a _list_ of abilities, Dean. I can handle anything they can do."

Dean sighed and glared out his window. "Fine," he said, "but we need to speak _very_ carefully in there. Makin' Gordon Walker suspicious last month was one thing, but if one Hunter in there hears the wrong thing —"

"I know what could happen," Sam cut in, opening the passenger-side door. "Now, are you coming in or not?"

Dean opened his mouth, wanting to issue more warnings and precautions, but Sam was already walking toward the front door, so he quickly got out of the Impala and followed Sam inside.

"Hey, boys," Ellen called from the bar as she poured a shot for some man. "Good to see you both. Sam, you put on anymore weight since I saw you last?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sam responded. "Hey, Jo."

Jo smiled in answer as she entered the bar with a box of beer. "Hey, Sam," she said. "Hi, Dean."

"Hey," Dean said. "How's business?"

"Good," Jo answered.

"So, what brings you two here today?" Ellen asked, having placed the bottle she'd been holding back in its proper place on a shelf.

"Is Ash here?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, hon, in his room." She jerked her head in the direction of the right door, which proudly proclaimed "Dr. Badass is In".

"Great, thanks." Dean followed Sam back to the door, completely missing the slightly dejected look that crossed Jo's face.

"Ash!" Sam called, knocking on the door. There was no answer. "Hey, Ash!"

"Here," Dean said, pushing past Sam and knocking. "Hey, Dr. Badass!" he called out, and after a moment, a very naked Ash opened the door.

"Sam!" he said brightly, barely poking his head through. "Dean! Sam and Dean."

Dean looked away immediately and noted the nauseated look on his brother's face.

"Hey, Ash," Sam said. "Uh, we need your help finding some people."

"Oh yeah?" Ash nodded. "Guess that means I need pants then."

Sam retreated the moment the door shut, Dean right on his heels.

* * *

"OK, so there's only four kids of Sam's generation who had the nursery fires," Ash said, taking the seat next to Sam and snagging a drink from his beer.

"Great," Dean said from Sam's other side. "We already know about Sam and Max Miller, so who're the other two?"

"We got Andrew Gallagher and Scott Carey," Ash replied, handing over printouts on the two men. Sam looked at the pictures provided.

"I've never had visions about either of them," he said after a moment of staring. "I wonder what they can do?"

"Lemme see," Dean said, and Sam handed over the printouts before heading for the restroom. He was incredibly bothered by how few people his age had suffered the same fires. How many mothers out there hadn't woken up and walked into their child's nurseries?

The headache, as always, came out of nowhere. Sam gasped, startling the Hunter at the sink next to his as he clutched at his forehead. "Hey man, you all right?" the Hunter asked, but then Sam couldn't see, feel, or hear him anymore —

_A portly black man was walking down the street, waving at some people and smiling like it was a damn good day. His cell phone rang and he pulled it out. "Hello?"_

_A moment later his expression changed and there was a glimpse of a gun in a shop. "I can do that," the man said, and then he shut his phone and headed across the street to a gun store, where he got his hands on a turkey hunter, loaded it with two rounds, killed the gun dealer and then blew his own brains out._

_He could see the man —he's Dr. Jennings — could see a bus sign… Blue Ridge?_

"Gah!" Sam was surprised to find he was still standing, one hand tightly clutching the sink before him as his legs shook and his knees threatened to buckle.

"Are you with me?" He suddenly realized a Hunter he didn't know was at his shoulder, concern radiating off him and almost covering the suspicion. "C'mon, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Dean," Sam gasped out, shoving away from the sink and the Hunter and stumbling toward the door. "I need m'brother."

"Woah, hey, slow down," the Hunter said, grabbing his arm and helping him stay upright. "Take it easy, man."

"Let go," Sam commanded, and the Hunter obeyed without question.

"You need help, kid," he said, opening the restroom door instead, and watching as Sam stumbled back into the bar. "What the hell happened back there?"

Sam ignored him, searching the bar with his eyes until he caught Dean's eyes. "Dean," he said again, and his brother was up in a flash, easily maneuvering through the tables until he was at Sam's side.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Was it —?" He broke off, clearly not wanting to mention any of Sam's abilities out loud in a bar filled with Hunters. Not that Sam could blame him.

"He completely checked out back there," the Hunter from the restroom said. "What happened in there, anyway?"

Sam didn't want this, any of this. "Nothing happened," he insisted, pushing with his powers. "I just tripped and hit my head, you saw it."

"Oh," the Hunter said, his frown vanishing at once. "Right."

Sam looked away, refusing to meet Dean's eyes as he was guided across the bar and into the spare room in the back, Ash and Ellen following him while Jo stayed out to managed the bar.

"Dude, I thought you weren't gonna do shit like that," Dean snapped the moment the door was shut.

"Too bad," Sam replied, sitting down hard and rubbing at his forehead. "He was asking questions, and he _saw_ me having a vision! I couldn't risk that!"

"Oh," Dean said, the anger leaving him completely. "Right. Works for me."

"Wait," Ellen said, "What're you talkin' about?"

"Nothing," Sam said at the same time as Dean. "I need a pen and paper," Sam added, "gotta draw something for Ash to look up."

"Same city that Gallagher kid lives in," Ash finally said some minutes later, showing Sam the website of the Blue Ridge bus system. "Guthrie, Oklahoma."

"OK," Sam said, rubbing at his forehead and silently begging the headache to just go away. "I guess he's the one we're going to see first, then."

Minutes later, they had the last known address of Andy and were climbing into the Impala. "We need to spend as little time as possible there," Dean said as he started up the engine.

"Huh?" Sam said, snapping out of his thoughts.

"The Roadhouse," Dean said with annoyance. "I don't wanna risk you havin' any more visions around a bunch of trigger-happy Hunters."

"Oh," Sam said stupidly. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's not like you can decide when they'll happen," Dean said. "We just need to be more careful."

"Yeah," Sam said again. "I know."

* * *

Tracking down Andy was relatively easy, especially given the epically _sweet-awesome_ van he drove. A mural of a Barbarian Queen riding a Polar Bear covered the driver's side, and honestly, Dean was pretty convinced right then at this kid couldn't possibly be the one who was gonna kill the man Sam had seen in his vision.

Sam, unsurprisingly, did not agree. "You _know_ that's probably what he wants of us," he said seriously. "Soldiers kill, Dean, and _we're_ the Goddamn soldiers!"

"Sam, you're not a killer," Dean insisted, "not like Max was. We take out the supernatural, not unfortunate kids with demon blood in their veins who don't have a _clue_ as to what's happening to them, let alone _why_ it's happening. I mean, look at Andy," and he gestured across the street as Andy left some hot chick's apartment and asked for a stranger's coffee before strolling away in his bathrobe and pajamas. "If he's got the Jedi thing goin' for him, then why hasn't he used it to get fortune, fame, a house with no mortgage or whatever?"

"I don't know," Sam said, "why haven't I done any of that?"

"Cause we don't need it, Sammy," Dean answered at once, grinning. "I mean, sure, you still need some practice with your own skills there, but we don't need some white picket fence or loads of money." He reached out and patted the Impala's dashboard. "This is home," he said, the grin becoming a genuine smile when Sam's dimpled smile finally showed itself.

Sam looked away, and then he was sitting up straighter. "That's him," he said, pointing to the older, black man that was currently talking to Andy across the street. "The older guy, he's the shooter."

"OK," Dean said, "well, you keep up with him, and I'll follow Andy."

Sam nodded and was out of the car seconds later, easily staying out of sight as Andy climbed into his van, started the engine and drove away, Dean soon following him at a distance.

When Andy stopped his van at a stop sign and climbed out, Dean was instantly alert.

"Hey," Andy said with an easy smile as he reached the Impala. Up close, Dean could see the kid didn't shave too often and had the distinct smell of smoke around him. His clothes were rumpled, he had multiple piercings in his ears, and really, he looked kinda like a street bum. Unlike street bums, however, Andy's expression and eyes held none of the inner turmoil and sadness Dean had seen on the homeless.

"Hey," Dean replied hesitantly, all too aware of the gun tucked in his jacket. He was really hoping he wouldn't have to kill the kid.

Then Andy was telling Dean how awesome the Impala was, and before Dean could figure things out, he had handed over the car and was left standing next to the van, watching Andy drive away in his precious car. "Shit," he whispered, "he's got the same ability." And that raised a question: how was he going to get anywhere with Andy without having Sam standing next to him at all times? Then he remembered that Sam was following the older man and pulled out his cell phone. This entire situation was just _not good.

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**This story is only going to be 3 chapters long, so I should have it all up within a week. After this one, we're **_**really**_** going AU, so stay tuned and lemme know what you think!**

**-Yami Faerie**

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**_Edited 11/__21/10_**  
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	2. Chapter Two: Evil Twin

**What Makes A Killer**

**Chapter Two: Evil Twin

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"Andy's _definitely _got the Jedi Mind powers," Dean said the moment Sam answered his phone. "I gave him the car."

"You _what_?" Sam almost shouted. "Wait, never mind, I know you couldn't stop it. I guess that explains how he got that guy to try and blow his brains out."

"And the way he got all those creditors off his case. Did you stop that man from killing himself?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, "but I'm worried —" He broke off, watching as Andy drove by in the Impala, talking very seriously on his phone. He looked over at the black man just as he snapped his phone shut and stepped in front of a moving bus.

He was dead instantly.

* * *

"Do you think he could affect me with the mind control powers, too?" Sam asked as Dean pulled him away from where the doctor had killed himself.

"I hope not," Dean said, "otherwise we're screwed. Now where's the damn car?"

They found the Impala a few blocks away, and Dean insisted on returning to where Andy had left his van. Breaking in was, of course, easy, and Dean soon seemed even more convinced that Andy couldn't have killed the doctor. "No killer has books this deep or Moby Dick's bong," he said. "It just can't be this kid."

"Dean, it's not me doin' it, so it _has_ to be him!" Sam insisted as they drove away to get food and figure out their next move. "I just don't get why."

Dean merely offered a shrug as he pulled up to a Wendy's, ordered their food, and then found an abandoned parking lot to park in while eating. Sam spent the entire time in silence, wanting Dean to just _listen_ to him. There was no way it couldn't be Andy doing this unless some other mind controller just _happened_ to be in town, and the chances of that were so slim Sam didn't even bother hanging onto that idea. Instead, he focused on his salad and wondered if he'd have another vision, another chance to prove it was Andy.

"Why are you following me?" Sam and Dean started and turned to Sam's open window. Up close, Andy was short, but then, pretty much everyone was short to Sam.

"We're lawyers—" Sam started, but Andy cut him off.

"_Tell the truth!"_

"We're —"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said, and Dean shut his mouth at once. _I guess it doesn't affect me,_ he thought with a twinge of relief.

Andy frowned. "I ordered you," he said, sounding confused. "Tell me why you're following me!"

"We —"

"_Shut up,"_ Sam snapped again, and Dean slammed his mouth shut once more, looking both annoyed and grateful. Sam slammed out of the Impala and strode toward a terrified Andy.

"Leave me _alone_!" Andy yelled, stumbling over his feet in his haste to get away from Sam.

"It doesn't work on me," Sam said, continuing his advance. "I can do it, too, and I'm not gonna let my brother tell you anything you don't need to know."

"Wait, you can tell people what to do, too?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Notice how my brother told you nothing. Yes, Andy, I can do that and a lot more."

"More?" Andy looked positively freaked now.

"For example," Sam said, "I saw that man, the doctor? I saw him kill himself _yesterday_, and I stopped him from blowing his brains out only to watch him jump in front of a bus. Why'd you do it, Andy?"

"What? I never killed him!"

"I still don't think it's him," Dean called as he climbed out of the car, but Sam waved for him to keep his distance.

"Like I said before, it's not me," Sam replied, glaring over at his brother. "Is this the part where you tell me there's another psychic running around?"

Dan shrugged from the Impala. "Dunno," he said. "Could be."

"Wait, there's others like us?" Andy said.

"There's _no one_ like me," Sam snapped. "The rest of you only have one ability each."

"Wait —"

"Visions, Andy," Sam cut the other man off. "I told you, I saw Dr. Jennings kill himself _yesterday_. I stopped him from offing himself one way only to see him do another, and both times? It was after getting a phone call."

Andy's mouth fell open. "There's another mind controller here, then," he finally managed. "I'd never kill the doctor, he was a good man."

_A woman on fire_.

Sam flinched away, blinking furiously and trying to focus. _Please, not right now_, he thought desperately. "Then we need to do more research," he heard Dean say before, "Sam? Sam, you OK?"

_Gas station_.

"Sammy!"

_The woman was filling up her car when the phone call came. Within less than a minute, she was covered in gasoline and pulling out the heated up cigarette lighter from inside her car. And then she was burning… burning alive._

"Sam!" He was trying to focus, staring over at Andy, who clearly did _not_ have his cell phone out. "Sam, what'd you see?"

"A woman," he finally gasped out. "A woman on fire." And then the sound of sirens reached their ears, and Sam finally knew that Andy was telling the truth.

* * *

Dean went to go check out where the emergency vehicles were headed, while Sam and Andy stayed behind in the empty lot. "So," Andy said after a moment, "you have visions of people dying?"

Sam smiled slightly. "Yeah."

"Dude, that really sucks."

"I know," Sam said with a chuckle.

There was another moment of silence.

"How'd you even know I was here?" asked Andy. "How'd you know about my ability or anything?"

"Research," Sam answered. "You're not the first psychic that we've found."

"How many have you found, then?"

"So far," Sam said, running a hand through his hair, "two others besides you. One's dead and we haven't met the other one yet. I know there's more of us out there," he added, "but I'm still working on a way to find them apart from having more visions." _Like Lily_, he thought silently.

"Find them?" Andy echoed. "You say that like they follow a different pattern or something."

"Or something," Sam muttered as the Impala rolled back into the parking lot and Dean emerged. "Well?" he asked.

"Just like you said," Dean sighed, walking over. "I got a name and called Ash to check up on who she was, and get this." He looked between Sam and Andy. "This woman, Holly Beckett, she gave birth on the same day and year that Andy was born."

Sam turned back to Andy. "You were adopted?" he asked, and Andy nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Never came up," was Andy's confused reply.

"We need to see your birth certificate," Dean said. He looked at Sam. "But there's one problem. It's hard-copy only."

Sam met Andy's eyes. "No problem," he said.

It was decided that Andy would keep people out of their way while they did their research. Sam found the copy of the birth certificate, and sure enough, Holly Beckett was Andy's birth mother. Even more importantly, however, were the facts that one, dead Dr. Jennings had helped Holly with the whole thing, and two, Holly gave birth to _twins_.

"I have an evil twin," Andy said faintly as he sat down on the nearest chair.

"You sure don't get to hear that everyday," Dean commented with a small grin.

_I'm glad someone's getting a kick outta this,_ Sam thought dryly. "Right," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Anyway, you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your twin went to the... the Weems family from upstate."

"Wow," Andy said. "What's his name?"

"Uh… Anson Weems," Sam answered. Andy frowned and shook his head. "He's got a local address," Sam added after a moment. "Hang on, let me get the photo ID printed up."

When the photo came through from the DMV, Sam was shocked. He knew Andy had worked at a diner before his got his ability, he and Dean had even visited the place in their quest to find the kid, but he never once suspected the awkward server who proclaimed Andy's awesomeness was the evil twin brother. And then he remembered something else.

_Two boys. They looked similar like the thought of twins, but they weren't identical. A girl, about the jump at the words of one, while the other tried to make her stop. Shouting. Was that Dean's voice? His own? The girl, teetering on the edge, and then one boy found a gun and shot the other dead._

_Words. Control, do what they say. Dean does, Sam feels nothing. More children affected by Azazel._

Oh. So _this_ was what that vision had been about. "That girl at the diner," Sam said, "what's her name again?"

"Uh, you mean Tracy?" Andy asked, and _yes_, that was the same girl.

"He wants her out of the way," Sam told Andy, hating to see the color drain from his face.

"What? How do you know?" But Sam knew they were running out of time, and he ushered them out to the Impala.

"Where's the dam?" he asked.

"Uh…"

"The dam? Sam, what —?"

The vision slammed into him without warning.

* * *

Dean prided himself on his ability to tell when Sam was about to have a vision. He'd watched him have enough by this point, he figured. However, the way Sam's hands suddenly flew to his head completely startled him, and when Sam's knees buckled, he was almost too late to catch him before he could slump over completely.

"Sam!" he yelled, clutching at Sam's shoulders. "Damn it, he's got the worst timing!" He turned to look at Andy. "What d'you know about Anson?"

"What?" Andy started from his staring at Sam. "Oh, he uh, he just showed up like, eight months ago? Acts like he's my best friend, but it was really weird, like he was trying too hard or something."

"He must have known you guys are twins," Dean said, staring at him. "Why wouldn't he tell you? Why use a different name?"

"No clue," Andy answered with a helpless shrug. Suddenly, Sam gasped and Dean could see the lucidity returning to his eyes.

"Sam? What happened?"

Sam gasped for breath, clutching at his forehead with one hand and grasping Dean's shirt tightly in the other. "He's gonna make Tracy jump off the dam," he answered, struggling to stand up. "We've gotta go now!"

"Dean, three of us can control your mind without a problem," Sam argued when they parked a short distance away from the dam. "We can't risk Anson going after you."

"Then I'll stay back with the rifle," Dean insisted, pulling it out of the trunk. "I'm not letting the two of you go in without some kind of back up."

"What if he can control people without saying anything?" Sam shot back, and Dean found himself caught off-guard by the question.

"Without talking?"

"Yes, Dean," Sam said harshly. "The way he's acting, and —" He suddenly broke off and turned away. "I'm almost positive he's put a lot more effort into mastering this ability than either of us," he finally said, gesturing between himself and Andy. "Please Dean, stay back, OK?"

Dean sighed, not liking this at all, especially the way Sam seemed to know more than he was saying. "Fine," he finally said, "but you be careful, all right?"

Sam nodded, snagged his gun and set off, Andy hurrying to keep up with his long strides. Dean closed the trunk of the Impala and sat on top of it. He sincerely hoped he wasn't making a mistake by letting them go.

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**And here's chapter 2. One more to go before we begin the journey into uncharted territory. Or whatever. Anywho, leave a comment, I wanna know what you think. Even a simple "I liked this chapter" would be better than nothing. Thanks for reading!**

**-Yami Faerie

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**

_Edited 11/21/10_**  
**


	3. Chapter Three: Defining Actions

**What Makes A Killer**

**Chapter Three: Defining Actions

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Andy was scared, anxious, nervous, and pretty much terrified of the idea of seeing his twin brother again, especially now that he knew who he was. He kept close to Sam and stared ahead as they approached Anson's car. When the passenger door opened and Tracy stepped out in only her slip, it was Sam's tight grip on his shoulder that stopped him from running forward and yelling his head off.

Then Anson got out of the driver's side and the amused look on his face was just too damn much. "Wait!" Sam hissed, but Andy didn't listen.

"Anson!" he shouted once he was closer. "Stop it, just stop!"

Anson turned, looking slightly surprised to see Andy there. "Hey," he said after a moment. "What're you doin' here?"

"Just… Just stop," Andy said, slowing to a halt. He could hear Sam running to catch up with him, but he focused on his brother for the moment. "What you're doing… It's not right."

Anson raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he said. "Andy, d'you know what's _really_ not right? Separating us. _No one_ should come between us, brother. I'm just trying to get rid of what stands in the way."

"Tracy's not a part of that," Andy insisted, gesturing to Tracy who was waiting by the dam's ledge, shaking and sobbing silently. Sam came to a stop beside Andy, but said nothing.

"Hey, weren't you some insurance guy or something?" Anson asked.

"I lied," Sam said simply.

"Look," Andy cut in, "I get that it was wrong to separate us, OK? But that doesn't mean you go and _kill_ people!"

"It was the only way," Anson said with a shrug.

"The only way," Andy echoed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"That's what he said to me," Anson said, and now Andy felt nothing but confusion.

"Who's 'he'?" Andy asked.

"The man with the yellow eyes."

Sam stiffened next to Andy, and that got his attention more than almost anything. "Sam?" he asked quietly.

"The man with the yellow eyes is a liar," Sam said, and Andy was surprised to notice that his left hand was shaking pretty bad. "He twists truth and lies until you're nothing more than a weapon in his hands, a killer."

"So he's come to you in your dreams, too," said Anson. "You control minds, like us?"

"I do more than that, actually," Sam replied, "and it's all the yellow-eyed man's fault that it happened."

"His fault?" Anson frowned. "What's that mean, then?"

Sam swallowed, and for the first time since meeting the man, Andy could see real fear in his hazel eyes. He didn't think he could be scared of anything, the way he acted, but whoever this yellow-eyed man was, Sam was _terrified_ of him.

"First off," Sam finally said, "he's not a man. He's a demon possessing a man."

There was a long pause.

"I'm sorry, what?" Andy said, turning to face Sam and staring up at him.

"A demon," Sam repeated, "and a very powerful one, too."

There was more silence.

"Seriously?" said Anson. "Demon's don't exist."

Sam just smiled, but it sent chills down Andy's spine.

"They don't!" Anson said more loudly.

Then Sam raised his right hand and Tracy suddenly flew through the air with a shriek, landing securely in Sam's arms. "Walk away right now," he said to her as he set her down. "Just walk away and you'll be safe."

Andy could see that she was beyond terrified, but when her eyes met his, he could only smile and nod encouragingly. Tracy finally nodded back and scurried away. When Anson opened his mouth again, Sam made his next move, diving forward and slamming Anson into the side of his car. Andy started, but moved forward.

"What you're doing needs to stop," Sam said tightly. "Killing people is _exactly_ what Azazel wants you to do."

"Azazel?' Andy asked.

"The demon's name," Sam said shortly. "Your adopted mom died in a fire in your nursery when you were exactly six months old, Andy. The same thing happened to me, but not to Anson here, am I right?"

Anson nodded hesitantly. "Do you wanna know why it happened? Cause it was Azazel who did it, and he visited Anson here, just like he came to the both of us and plenty of others."

Andy felt his mouth fall open. "Just how many other psychics like us are out there?" he asked.

"No idea," Sam said, "but Azazel had a purpose in visiting us all."

"And what was that?" Anson asked, sounding a bit choked as though Sam was putting too much pressure on his chest.

"He came to us at the age of six months to put _demon blood_ into us."

Andy felt his insides go cold. Demons were real? And one had come to him when he was a baby to feed him demon blood? "Why did my mom die?" he asked softly.

"She walked in and interrupted him," Sam answered. "He considered it reason enough for her death, and my mom's."

This wasn't how Andy had expected this confrontation to go, at all. He placed his hands behind his head as he tried to think and turned away, only to see Tracy running at Sam with a tree branch in her hands.

"No _stop_!" he yelled without thinking, and Tracy slammed to a halt. Sam turned and Anson used the distraction to shove him away and pull free a gun.

Everyone back away from each other, Tracy still holding the branch. "How many people do I have to kill before we can be together?" Anson yelled, the gun in his hand shaking slightly.

"No one!" Andy finally shouted back as he snapped to his senses. "You know what you do when you find out you have a twin brother? You pick up the phone, you visit, you fuckin' _talk_ to each other! You do not go around _killing_ everyone!"

"Put the gun down, Anson," Sam said. "It doesn't have to be like this, you don't have to be a killer like Azazel wants."

"But I have to," Anson said, his voice breaking. "Andy and I should've grown up _together_, not apart like this!" His eyes flickered to Tracy, and Andy knew he'd honed his powers to where he didn't have to say a word when she lifted the branch once more and moved toward Sam. He twitched his hand, sending the gun flying from Anson's hand (telekinesis, Andy reminded himself), but by the time he turned to Tracy, he only had time to raise his arms to fend off her attack and Andy saw part of the tree branch gouge into his left arm, blood squirting free from the injury as Sam let out a grunt of pain.

Andy would never know why he did what he did next. He wanted to get to know Anson, to learn how to be his brother, but when Anson dove for the gun, Andy did, as well. And when Andy got his hands on the gun and Anson tried to attack him to get it back, it only seemed natural to cock it and pull the trigger.

_BAM!_

Anson's eyes bulged as he stumbled backward. Andy vaguely noticed Sam finally getting Tracy to stop and drop the branch before turning to him, but all he could do was stand there and watch as his brother backed into his car before his legs gave out on him. "I'm sorry," he heard himself say as the light faded from Anson's eyes. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

The moment Dean heard a gun go off, he decided he'd had enough and took off running. When he rounded the bend, he found that Anson was dead, Andy had a gun clutched in his hands, Tracy was in her slip and crying with a tree branch by her side, and Sam was still very much alive, though with a sizable gash in his left arm, which was shaking pretty bad again.

With an inward sigh, Dean pulled out his cell phone and called for help. Within an hour, state troopers and EMT guys flooded the scene. Tracy was being treated for shock, Anson was being carted away to the morgue, Andy was giving a believable statement that would, of course, be taken as God's honest truth, and Sam's arm was getting cleaned up.

"You really should come with us to the ER," an EMT told him, "you're gonna need stitches."

Sam met Dean's eyes, clearly wanting to know what he should do. Both men were totally capable of stitching each other up, but Dean felt like they were pushing their luck just a little too much. "I guess I'll drive behind you guys," he said, gesturing to the Impala, which he had moved closer before the authorities showed up. "Take good care of my brother, OK?"

"Will do," the EMT said, pulling both Sam and Tracy into the ambulance.

"Hey, Andy!" Dean called as he headed for his car. "Think you can handle everything else here?"

"Yeah," Andy said, still sounding very shaken. "I'll meet you at the ER later, right?"

Dean nodded in reply, sliding into the driver's seat and starting up the engine. Twenty minutes later, he was parked and heading inside to where Sam was currently having his arm stitched up.

"You're lucky it didn't go any deeper," a nurse was telling him as they worked.

"Any chance of infection?" Dean asked, clapping a hand to Sam's good shoulder.

"I think he'll be fine," the doctor said without looking up, "but we're prescribing a short course of antibiotics to be on the safe side since he refuses to have an I.V."

"Sounds good to me," Dean said. "You OK, Sammy?"

Sam nodded silently, staring down at his left hand with still had fine tremors running through it. Thankfully, the doctor and nurses were to busy to notice it, and soon enough, Sam and Dean were heading through the waiting room with a small container of meds. Dean spotted Andy first; the poor kid was slumped in his seat, looking beyond exhausted.

"Hey," Sam said quietly, taking the seat next to him. "Has Tracy come out yet?"

Andy shook his head. "You think she's scared of me, now?" he asked softly.

"No," Sam said with a shake of his head. "You were just trying to protect her and me."

"And that makes it better?"

Sam sighed and glanced at Dean. "She needs to know that yes, you can do it, too, but no, you would _never_ use it on her. Not on purpose, anyway. I get the feeling she still wants to trust you, Andy."

Andy was silent for a few minutes. "I'm a killer now," he said softly.

"No," Sam said, "you're not. Not like Anson was. You were defending yourself, you didn't know what Anson was gonna do once you got a hold of the gun."

"You know what makes a killer?" Dean asked. "Someone unstable, Andy. Someone who listens to what demons tell them to do, or someone who kills for little to no good reason. Anson was unstable, he listened to a demon and did what it said." He leaned forward and stared hard at Andy. "You could have anything in the world that you want with this power of yours, right?"

"Yeah," Andy said with a confused shrug, "but I got everything that I _need_."

"And _that,_" Dean said firmly, "already makes you different from Anson. You're no killer, kid."

Andy nodded, clearly looking relieved. Another moment of silence passed. "What happened to you, Sam?" he asked, and Dean watched as he little brother's head shot up.

"What d'you mean?" he asked, suddenly sounding a little wary. Dean wondered what exactly had happened before Andy shot Anson.

"Before," Andy said, "when you were talking about that… demon?" Sam nodded.

"Azazel," he said.

"You're scared of him," Andy said, "I could see it in your eyes. What did he do to you?"

Dean had a strong desire to tell Andy to shove it, that it wasn't his business, but really, that was up to Sam. He watched as his little brother took a steadying breath before speaking.

"You know how I told you about being fed demon blood at the age of six months?" Andy nodded and Dean blinked. He'd told him about that? "Well," Sam said, right knee bouncing a couple times, "there's a lot more to it than that."

Sam explained about how their dad, John had become a Hunter of all things supernatural in his quest to find and kill Azazel for killing their mom. He told Andy about being raised on the road, how Dean had always looked out for him, how he struggled to understand what family really meant when he wanted _normal_ so fucking badly that he had finally left and gone to college. He talked about Jess, about Dean coming back into his life after two years, about John going missing, about Jess dying, the Hunts, Sam's visions, everything up to the showdown in the cabin. "Dad told me to shoot him in the heart," Sam said softly. "He said it was the only way to kill Azazel, but I couldn't do it, and then Azazel shot out of Dad and —"

For the first time, Sam broke off and closed his eyes tightly, holding his left arm close to his body. Dean swallowed and leaned forward so he could see Andy.

"Azazel decided to possess Sam and kidnap him," he said quietly. "He went missing for damn near a month before we got him back."

"What happened?" Andy asked, eyes wide as he clearly struggled to process everything.

Sam sighed and glanced at Andy before looking away. "He had a bunch of demons with him," he finally said, "and they force-fed me more demon blood."

There was a long moment of silence. "Is that why you can do more than me?" asked Andy. "You said there's no one else like you."

"And I meant it," Sam said, finally looking over at Andy and holding his gaze. "Drinking more blood gives you the ability to exorcize demons with your mind and send them back to Hell. Having a bunch of demons try to kill me taught me how to do it and I ended up unlocking the other abilities." He looked away again. "I have visions, the mind control thing, inhuman strength and telekinesis. And that's only so far."

"So far?" Andy echoed.

"I've heard of other abilities," Sam said, leaning back in his seat and running a hand through his hair. "Like I said before, I'd only met one other kid like us before you and Anson, and he ended up killing himself."

Andy sucked in a breath and slumped back in his chair. "Are we all supposed to become psycho killers or something?" he asked.

"Soldiers," Sam corrected. "Or at least, that's what we've heard."

"And _that_ is so not comforting to hear," Andy sighed.

"It shouldn't be," Dean said. "Azazel influenced Anson to become a killer, into full-out insanity, man, but that doesn't mean you or Sam are goin' down that path. Just, be good, you know?"

"Or you'll come back, right?" Andy asked wryly. Dean snorted, but nodded.

"Listen," he said, standing up, "we're not really ones to hang about for long periods of time after people die, you know? And Sam here needs a little downtime after getting gashed open, so you take care of yourself, and you fix things up with Tracy."

"Yeah," Andy said as he and Sam also stood. "I will. And… well, thanks."

Sam nodded and didn't complain once when Dean took him by the elbow and guided him away, out the ER's main doors and into the Impala. "I say we give it couple days before going to find Scott," Dean said as he started the Impala's engine and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

"Yeah," Sam said in an absent tone, staring out the passenger window. "You think Andy'll be OK?"

"Oh, yeah," Dean answered. "A little shell-shocked, I guess, but he'll cope. He seems much more balanced than Max or Anson."

Sam nodded. "How many others d'you think have had dreams of Azazel?"

"Hopefully, none," Dean answered. "But honestly? Probably more than a few. It sucks that we can't track more of them down."

"… We might be able to find some."

"Oh?" Dean asked.

"You told me that you, Dad and Bobby made a list of other places Azazel most likely visited based on signs," Sam said after a moment. "I know it isn't much, but it's a start, right?"

And _that_ thought reminded Dean of something he had forgotten. "St. Mary's," he muttered, remembering the article that inadvertently told of Azazel's first real sighting on the planet.

"What?" Sam asked.

"The first sighting," Dean said, "it was at a convent in Ilchester, Maryland. Eight nuns were slaughtered by the priest, a Father Lehne, and he claimed to have been possessed by our yellow-eyed friend." He paused, trying to remember all the details he had looked up. "The man's still alive, the convent's been abandoned, and I managed to get a look at the crime scene photos." He looked over at Sam, who was staring right back. "One of the nuns was draped over the alter on her back, head facing the pews and arms spread out."

Sam frowned. "That sounds pretty sacrificial," he said.

"My thoughts exactly," Dean replied. "I think we need to check it out after finding Scott Carey."

"Yeah, all right," Sam said, nodding as his thoughts clearly started running in five different directions. "Maybe we can find out more about Azazel's end game."

Dean nodded but said nothing, and the two drove away from Guthrie in silence.

"So Andy said that Anson _could_ do the mind control thing without saying anything at all," Dean said after some length of time.

"Yeah," Sam said softly, "he could."

"Did you know? From your vision?"

Sam didn't say anything for almost a minute. "Yeah," he said again. "He made you kill yourself with your Colt and I — I _tried_ to stop you, but then Tracy attacked again and I…" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "The only thing I thought I could do to save you was to keep you out of the conflict entirely." He met Dean's eyes. "There was no need for him to know you were even around."

Dean didn't like hearing it, but it did make sense. "Well, next time, tell me, OK?" he said. "I was freakin' worried the entire time, and when I heard that gun go off —" He broke off, unable to say the things he was thinking.

"I know," Sam said, and Dean knew what he _had_ managed to say was good enough. He pressed hard on the accelerator, and the Impala sped away, a dark mark on the road in the pre-dawn light.

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**And there you have it. End of this story, but now the real fun begins as we delve further into this AU in the next story. Thanks for reading thus far, lemme know if you liked it or not, and I'll see y'all in the next story.**

**-Yami Faerie

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_Edited 11/21/10_**  
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